


Old Friends

by thegharden



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, but they r mentioned so i tagged them, fuyuhiko has a very one-sided crush no squinting needed, he likes komaeda n komaeda likes him, kazuichi has a one-sided crush if you squint, none of the relationships are actually together, this is a hajime centric story about his insecurities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegharden/pseuds/thegharden
Summary: Hajime's hobby was watching the sun set.Convinced there is something more to life than these late nights, he has to wake up early to see the sunrise he had forgotten.





	Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! hajime centric fic full of angst and happiness!! his friends love him!! just a feel-good fic for anyone who is a big hajime fan like i am!!
> 
> takes place in the college au that everything i write tends to take place in 
> 
> tumblr: bbhajime.tumblr.com  
> ig: monotarobinkiesincorporated

“Hey, dude, are you okay?”  
   
Hajime wanted so badly to pretend he was still asleep, as he had done the time before. And the time before that too. Whatever. He just felt so bad that his roommate, who he wasn’t even well-acquainted with yet, had to deal with his stubborn laziness so early in their relationship. His voice was just so desperate and shrill, as though he feared that Hajime may be dead! It almost made him want to keep pretending just to spite him, but Hajime wasn’t a mean person (he hoped), so he decided against his selfishness and turned himself to face the doorway (and, unfortunately, _the light_ ) which his roommate was standing in. The comforter snagged uncomfortably under him and his shirt rode up just enough to itch and _god_ the thought of the day ahead of him was enough to make his skin crawl.  
   
It was the third day of proper classes, and the fourth day of him having settled into the college campus. His roommate, Kazuichi, was a silly guy with bright pink hair and a personality that just kicked your ass with its vibrancy. He was loud and playful and kind of obnoxious, if Hajime was being honest, but he dug it anyways. They got on well, and it was nice having someone willing to do most of the talking and one-sided interactions so early on in his college life. Hajime appreciated his presence, enough to stop his sleeping facade and open his eyes just a crack.  
   
“You can keep sleeping if you want, but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or something! You don’t look too hot, man.” Kazuichi said, squatting next to the edge of Hajime’s bed. He was already showered and dressed, ready for the day as he should be considering how late it was already. He gave Hajime a look of concern.  
   
“No, I should get up. Thanks.”  
   
Sitting up felt like hell, if he was being completely honest. Kazuichi stood up, but made no moves towards the door, like he was waiting to make sure he was okay. Hajime didn’t feel like he deserved Kazuichi’s doting, much less if he even _wanted_ it. Either way, it was a thing that was part of his life now, and he would come to appreciate it eventually.  
   
“No problem, dude. Wanna hang later? I met some people I think you might like!” Ah, his enthusiasm was so bright, Hajime couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.  
   
His legs were shaky, like weak, sleepy noodles. When he stood up on them, he wobbled a bit before grabbing onto Kazuichi’s shoulder just to keep himself from toppling over. Kazuichi laughed and gave him an encouraging pat on the back, but it felt almost foreboding, as if he was saying ‘ _it’s only gonna get worse from here, kid_ ’. Hajime didn’t care, he was up and that was a good enough achievement of the day. His old psychologist had told him to make lists in his head whenever he felt overwhelmed or depressed. They could be lists of anything, but they should never be of anything negative. Pretty simple, pretty straightforward, more of a distraction than anything. Hajime tended to make lists of ‘achievements’ when he was feeling discouraged, and they usually ended up as lists of simple activities. It was strange how proud you could be of something that someone wouldn’t even consider an achievement when you felt terrible.  
   
Hajime was dyslexic and had been diagnosed, along with his twin, with Asperger’s when he was pretty young. The symptoms were quite mild (enough to where you could just say he was “on the spectrum” and nothing more, especially not in comparison to his twin), and not many would be able to even tell anymore, but when he was a kid it was hellish in terms of being called names and the isolation that came with it. He had come to have trouble believing in himself, and even though things gotten a lot better for him recently, these feelings had developed into long bouts of depression. It was difficult to believe in yourself when you couldn’t socialize without making some dumb mistake or being too blunt or saying something weird. He didn’t talk to anyone about it, save for his psychologist, but sometimes he just wanted to grab someone and vomit all his feelings (and lack thereof) onto them. Still, Hajime kept to himself in fear that he might be rejected or outcast again. It felt like he was stuck in some never-ending cycle of self-pity and disgust at his own self-pity, see-sawing between those two feelings and having his motion sickness kick in and  
   
**blegh**  
   
he would throw up on some helpless soul who really did not deserve to be covered in puke.  
   
So, Hajime pushed himself through the day using his one little achievement. He wrote ‘I got out of bed today!’ on a little post-it in his terrible handwriting, decorated it with smiley faces, and stuck it to his bulletin board. Kazuichi gave him a bit of a look, but Hajime just shrugged and walked to the bathroom. He made sure the water in the shower was boiling hot.  
   
When he left the bathroom, clean and as ready as he could be to face the day, he found another post-it on his bulletin board. It was in much neater, curlier handwriting (it almost looking like the bubbly graffiti writing), and had a poorly drawn thumbs-up on it. Hajime found himself much closer to tears than a simple thing like that should have made him.  
   
‘You can do it!’  
   


* * *

   
That note stayed up on his bulletin board for a long time after that. It was faded now, the sunlight having stripped it of its original colours, but that didn’t matter. The words still read the same, and Hajime found that the letters never seemed hard to read or jumbled- something quite rare for him, as his dyslexia hadn’t gotten much better since childhood.  
   
Kazuichi and Hajime were very close by the end of their first year, and they had developed their own friend group. Fuyuhiko was also very close friends with the both of them, and even though Gundham was reluctant to hang out with them most of the time, all four of them got along great. Hajime had also become friends with Chiaki (though she was a self-proclaimed loner) and Nagito (well-known for being a bit of a nut), both oddballs with good cores. Lots of people seemed drawn to him, surprisingly enough considering his social awkwardness, as apparently he was a very comforting presence. Maybe it was because of his willingness to listen and his straightforward advice, but he would never be sure of why. He was just happy to be surrounded by so many amazing people.  
   
Still, he was jealous of them. They were all incredibly talented and got into the college with scholarships, the school basically paid them to be there. Hajime, on the other hand, had to work two jobs just to make sure he had the tuition money (let alone the money for things like food and supplies).  
   
This was where a lot of Hajime’s insecurities were. Rooted in his inability to do simple things as a child, and the fact that his carbon copy was extremely intelligent and talented, Hajime struggled with his own insignificance for a large portion of his life. He believed, not wholly but still, that many of his problems would be solved if he was just good at one thing, just _one_. In his humble opinion, he was below average, but not even far enough below to be interesting. It’s like how bad movies are only funny when they’re really bad. A movie that’s boring, and only kind of bad, is the worst kind. Hajime saw himself as that, the disappointing documentary that had lacking visuals and a few incorrect facts, the action film that lacked in both plot _and_ action. The top slice of bread in a loaf. A bar of soap that leaves much to be desired. The human equivalent of a parking space with a car parked just close enough to it that there isn’t enough space to actually park there. Canned soup eaten cold.  
   
Not terrible, but not good.  
   
He needed something, _anything_ to happen that would validate his existence. He wanted someone to grab his shoulders, cup his face in their hands, _look into his eyes_ and tell him that they believed in him. He wanted them to list why he was important. He wanted them to tell him that they needed him. His mom had always told him he was special, but she had never given him a reason. He needed a reason, otherwise it sounded like a lie. He needed facts, stable statements, something to keep in mind if he ever lost his way. He couldn’t do it all by himself. Selfish, right? He wished he could just live and be content with that. Unfortunately, Hajime was much needier than he wanted to be, and that he let on.  
   
He just didn’t want to lose sight of things and become empty. He was more scared of that than anything else.  
   
But he felt stupid for even thinking stuff like that. _It’s not that deep_. He didn’t even _want_ to have to think about it. _Most of your days are good, you have friends, it’s all fine. Don’t make things worse than they need to be_. Sometimes he just couldn’t help thinking about it. Fortunately, Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Gundham, even Nagito helped him keep his mind off of himself. He felt good for the first time in a long while.  
   


* * *

   
**List of things I love about Nagito**  
   
·         usually super calm no matter what  
·         doesn’t take anything for granted  
·         isn’t afraid to be honest  
·         gives me book recommendations  
·         reads stuff aloud to me if I have trouble reading that day  
·         loves to hug  
   
Hajime found himself on the bed in Nagito’s room quite a bit. Whenever Nagito felt bad or needed to talk, it just seemed like the best place for it- private and almost _intimate_ , considering it was his bed. Hajime was sat on the edge of it, legs criss-crossed and facing Nagito. The daylight pooled in the room, covering every surface it touched like a spotlight. Hajime couldn’t help but notice that it emphasized every blemish and every fleck of dust covering the furniture, and wondered just how the sun was able to make things so much prettier even when it showed off every imperfection with confidence. Maybe it was something so inherently human that it was difficult to comprehend, like we couldn’t see things as beautiful unless they had these imperfections. _Kinda like people_ , Hajime thought to himself.  
   
Nagito looked especially beautiful in the sunlight. Sure, it made the shadows of the bags under his eyes larger and it caught in the cracks of his dry hands, but his eyes were almost green in the sunlight, and his white locks trapped the light and seemed to glow. He looked surreal, like a painting ( _water colours_ , Hajime thought, _the kinds that blend together where one colour meets another. I wonder if I would blend into him as well._ ), and Hajime wasn’t good with poetry but he was sure he could write a poem about the way Nagito looked right now. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly embarrassed, so he looked down and counted his fingers. Five? Was that the right amount? Who knows. He was too busy trying to avoid his own thoughts to care.  
   
“Hajime, why do people have to feel bad?”  
   
Nagito’s voice was practically inaudible, so small and disheartened. Hajime looked up, and found Nagito with that smile plastered to his face. It was genuine, but that didn’t mean it was happy. He just didn’t seem to have many expressions that involved frowning. Maybe he hoped it would keep people from feeling sympathetic or worrying about him, but it was obvious to Hajime that you could smile and still be unhappy. The mouth had a mind of its own, always talking when it shouldn’t and laughing at inopportune times. The eyes, however, were so brutally honest that looking into Nagito’s made Hajime feel weak.  
   
“I mean, if we never felt bad, would we really ever feel good?” Hajime said, not knowing how to respond to such a statement. It was honest and it was a legitimate question, and that’s probably why it hurt so bad to hear.  
   
“I guess that’s true. It just feels a bit rude, like some people were just born with a separate conscience in their head that hates them and torments them and refuses to leave them alone. And for me, it’s not really like that, because I know that voice is right, but people keep telling me that it isn’t and it’s all so _confusing_ , Hajime. It’s like I don’t know what to think. My thoughts feel so jumbled and incomplete, like I can’t even understand them properly.” Nagito laughed, “Like my thoughts are in a different language. How stupid is that?”  
   
“It’s not stupid at all. You’re always gonna struggle with stuff like that, you’re predisposed to it. But look at you, you’re here, you’re living your life in spite of it all. You weren’t dealt the best cards in life, but you’re playing anyways and you just have to understand that you’re worth it. Even if-“  
   
“But I’m not worth it, Hajime-“ Nagito began, shaking his head at Hajime’s words.  
   
“Please, Nagito. You’re worth it to me. Even if you feel like the whole world is against you, even if you feel like _you_ should be against _yourself_ , just remember that you’re worth it to me, okay? I know that I’m not much, but I’ll be here for you.” Hajime cut him off, not prepared for a tirade of self-deprecation, not from Nagito, not _today_. The sun was out today, Nagito looked so alive, Hajime didn’t want to think about how dead he wanted to be.  
   
“Hajime,” he felt Nagito’s hand, his long thin fingers, wrap around his own, “thank you. I don’t deserve your kindness.”  
   
Hajime would take that. He was more concerned about the cold, dry skin curled against his. It was uncomfortable. Not in a terrible way or anything, more like the kind of discomfort you feel when you go over to your friend’s house for the first time and it’s not like you don’t want to be there or anything, but you don’t know the rules and regulations, the limits and laws of the house. Hajime wanted a written document of how to act when someone was holding your hand.  
   
“Ah, it was stupid of me to assume you would enjoy being touched by me.” Nagito mumbled, pulling his hand away. _What?_  
   
_Shit, uh._  
   
“No, why would you think that?” Hajime asked, reaching out to grab Nagito’s hand again (having to scoot closer to him in the process, their knees touching).  
   
“Well, your hand was just limp in my grasp. I assumed you were just too polite to pull away.”  
   
“Sorry, I just… I’ve never really held hands with anyone before.” Hajime said, lacing his own stocky fingers together with Nagito’s long, spidery ones. Getting his own inexperience off his chest, he felt much more comfortable.  
   
“Really? You seem like the type to be popular with girls-” Nagito looked down at their hands, “and, well, people.”  
   
“I’ve been asked out before, I’ve just never accepted. I’ve never been super into being, uh, _romantic_ with girls. Not really my thing.”  
   
“Oh? Then what is your thing?” Nagito beamed, his sunlit eyes growing wide with something like surprise or happiness, Hajime couldn’t be sure.  
   
“I mean, some girls are cute and stuff, and I used to just think I wasn’t into romance, but I don’t know. I kinda took more of an interest in guys. Not that I wouldn’t ever date a girl or anything, I just think I like guys more.” Hajime said, almost embarrassed by his own words, hoping the growing warmth of his hand would go unnoticed. Nagito just moved his thumb up and down the back of Hajime’s hand, smiling to himself. A somewhat awkward silence fell between them, filled only by the odd sound of Nagito’s thumb rubbing up against Hajime’s hand, and the occasional sound coming from some external area that Hajime didn’t really care to know about.  
   
“I guess I really must be lucky!” Nagito finally said after about five minutes of complete silence, pulling his hand away. Hajime didn’t really mind not understanding, he was just glad to see a genuine look of happiness on his friend’s face (that he couldn’t help but think was really, _really_ pretty).  
   
“It’s almost six. Do you want to come with me to get some food, Hajime? It’s fine if you don’t.” Nagito asked, getting up off the bed.  
   
“No, actually, that sounds great.”  
   
As they walked out of the dormitories, Hajime found a small part of himself wishing he was still holding hands with Nagito.  
   


* * *

   
**List of things I love about Kazuichi**  
   
·         my first friend here, super nice to me!  
·         always willing to encourage people  
·         isn’t super self-aware but is really trying to improve  
·         knows all the funniest tv shows- good for references  
·         really funny  
·         lets all his emotions out so it’s easy to tell how he’s feeling  
   
“Guess who?”  
   
Hajime sighed, exaggeratedly. Did he really have to do this at lunch? It was obvious who the perpetrator was just by the voice, but the sweaty palms on his face also gave it away. Hajime liked to humour him, though.  
   
“Who could it be? It couldn’t be _Kazuichi_ , he told me he’d never do it again after I threatened to clock him last time…” Hajime mused, monotonously, stroking his chin with feigned ignorance.  
   
“Har har, Hajime. You know it’s me.”  
   
Hajime pulled his head away from the hands, tilting it back to look up at the pink nightmare above him. Kazuichi flashed him a happy grin, presenting all his sharp teeth like a predator might. Only, the difference between Kazuichi and a predator is that no one could ever be scared of Kazuichi, even if he had a gun to your head. He was just too comical and colourful and silly to be anything but himself.  
   
“I can’t believe you duped me! I totally _didn’t_ know it was gonna be you!” Hajime mumbled, too tired to even change his expression or the tone of his voice. He just spoke slightly louder than usual.  
   
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Kazuichi said, draping his arms over Hajime’s shoulders. _Ah, Kazuichi is always so strangely affectionate_. Hajime swatted at Kazuichi’s arms, flicking them away like mosquitoes. Hajime was trying to eat, for goodness’ sake, now’s not the time to be melting all over him. Kazuichi let out a very shrill and annoying whine at the realization that his love and affection was unwanted.  
   
“C’mon, Hajime, don’t be so cold. We’re soul friends, let me touch you!”  
   
Hajime choked on a piece of bread at those words. He coughed and downed his entire glass of water, recovering after an embarrassingly long period of silence throughout the entire dining hall (save for the sounds of him choking to death, that is!). _Why, dear god, why did you have to say it like that?_  
   
“Yeah, Hajime, _don’t be so cold_.” Fuyuhiko said, his words being pushed through his smirk like a smug play-doh press. Kazuichi, with his already frail masculinity, sputtered, his face ripening like a red apple. Hajime gave Kazuichi an encouraging pat on the arm, preparing him for the fact that Fuyuhiko would probably hold that single phrase over his head for a long time to come.  
   
“You know I didn’t mean it like that! I’m, like, the exact _opposite_ of gay!” Kazuichi exclaimed, before sliding into the seat next to Hajime.  
   
“Straight?” Hajime chuckled. Fuyuhiko began laughing too.  
   
“Y-yeah, y’know. That. That thing.” Kazuichi said, eyes focused on his lunch and voice wavering very obviously. _Something’s up with him._  
   
It stayed on Hajime’s mind the whole day. _Did I say something bad? Was I rude?_ But nothing made sense, he couldn’t figure out why Kazuichi had gotten so awkward during that whole exchange. _I’m just gonna have to ask him, aren’t I? What if it was something I did? I hope he clears things up_. It wasn’t until later that day, in the evening, that Hajime found the perfect time to ask. Kazuichi was sat on the couch, and Hajime was making dinner in the miniscule kitchen for them to eat while they watched whatever series they were currently binging. _Just ask him, stupid._  
   
“Hey, so, uh… Did I fuck up during lunch?”

“Huh? No, why are you asking?” Kazuichi said, his eyebrow quirked up as if that was the stupidest question in the world.

“You just seemed kinda... _put off_ by us joking around about the homoerotic undertones of the whole ‘touching’ thing.” Hajime said, bringing over two plates and sitting down on the couch by Kazuichi.

“Aha, yeah, _that_.” Kazuichi chuckled uncomfortably, his fingers fiddling with the seams in the couch. “You know when you’re kinda insecure about a part of yourself that you don’t really wanna acknowledge, so you get really defensive whenever anyone jokes about it even if you know they don’t mean anything personal because they don’t even know about that part of you?”

Despite the fact that Hajime understood every word he had just said, putting together the pieces of a story had never been his forte. So he just sat there, staring at Kazuichi, hoping he would just be straightforward about it.

“Okay, so you guys were making a harmless joke about me being, um, _into you_ , and that made me uncomfortable. Considering my explanation, what does that mean I’m insecure about?” Kazuichi was looking at him with an intensity he hadn’t really seen in his eyes before, like he was telling him something really serious and important. Hajime felt stupid for having to take so long to understand what he was getting at.

“You... like men? You’re also interested in men? Or something?” Hajime half-stated, half-asked. Kazuichi looked like he was about to correct him, or protest, but then his face settled into a look of relief.

“Yeah, pretty much. Not that I don’t like girls, I _love_ girls, but I also kinda like guys. Y’know how Teruteru always goes on about being pansexual? Like that. He has some pretty good taste, believe it or not.” Kazuichi smiled and nodded to himself, as if he was mentally giving the perverted chef his stamp of approval. _Uh, well, Teruteru’s really open-minded, so I guess that’s... something._

“I get that it’s your own personal thing, but no need to be insecure about that. I like guys too.” Hajime said, raising up his hand a bit for a low high-five. Kazuichi was too busy giving him a really surprised look to immediately respond to the high-five.

“Hey, we’re in it together at least!” Kazuichi finally said, his sharp-toothed grin finally back as he brought his hand up to reciprocate the high-five. 

They spent the rest of the night watching tv and eating their dinner, Kazuichi providing a plethora of commentary on every part of every show, as well as spitting out little pieces of food every time he laughed. Hajime didn’t laugh as much as Kazuichi did, but he still found the jokes funny, it just takes a lot to make him laugh so outright like that. He did laugh every time Kazuichi spat food all over the place, though. After, they got ready for bed, and Hajime went to his room. The moon was high in the sky, bright like a desk lamp. It looked kind of like how he imagined a star would look when it “went out” when he was a kid, cold and blue around the edges. _Today was a good day_. Hajime found his thoughts lingering on the post-it, still on his bulletin board, and the fact that he never thanked Kazuichi for that.

“Hey.”

 _Oh, speak of the devil._ Hajime sat up, rubbing his eyes a bit, the night having already seeped into them. Kazuichi was standing in the doorway, his bright hair messy and still a bit wet from his shower.

“Sorry if I woke you up, I just... I wanted to say thank you, for taking me seriously.”

“Huh? Don’t worry about it, I was up anyways.” Hajime said, watching as Kazuichi made himself comfortable on the edge of Hajime’s bed. 

“I know I’m a bit of a doofus and kind of annoying, and I know it’s probably hard to put up with me sometimes, so I’m just really glad you’re still here and you still treat me like a normal human, and not like some comedic relief character.” Kazuichi looked down at Hajime, patting the hill of his leg from over the blanket. 

“No problem. You’re a cool dude.” Hajime said. “Thank you for just being my friend since day one, and for leaving that post-it on my bulletin board that one time. It really helps.” At least his sleepiness gave him that extra shot glass of confidence he needed to spit that out, despite the fact that it also slurred his speech and made a mess of his sentence construction.

Kazuichi’s face looked a bit red, but the moonlight kind of messed up his colour perception, so Hajime couldn’t be sure.

“It’s easy to be your friend. You’re a great guy. That post-it was the least I could do for you.” Kazuichi said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hell, I should add more post-its to your bulletin board.” 

Hajime pushed himself up so that he was in a proper sitting position now, his face close to Kazuichi’s. 

“I’m so glad to have you as my friend. You’re such a cool guy, Kazuichi.” 

Kazuichi averted his eyes from Hajime’s gaze, embarrassed. Hajime rolled his eyes at Kazuichi’s sudden modesty, _where’s the Kazuichi I know and love when I need him, the one that oozes confidence like an over-saturated sponge?_

“Yeah, you-you’re also a really good friend!” 

Hajime smiled, and he put his hand on Kazuichi’s shoulder. Kazuichi flinched, turned to face Hajime again with a look of confusion, only to flinch _again_ when he realized how close their faces were.

“Now go away so I can sleep.” Hajime said, using his grasp to shake Kazuichi a little. Kazuichi pushed the hand off his shoulder, mumbling out a few happy ‘alright, alright’s. They said their goodnights, and Kazuichi closed the door behind him, submerging Hajime in the darkness that Kazuichi seemed to light up.

The dark was heavy and thick, but Hajime had that happiness to hold onto. He crossed his fingers and hoped it would last. The quiet was uncomfortable, but the memory of voices was enough to let him sleep. Hajime was blessed with a night-long sleep, but by morning he forgot to thank Kazuichi, as was very typical of him.

* * *

Mirrors were daunting. Hajime tried to avoid them at all costs.

But here he was anyways, stood in front of one, staring blankly at the cold reflection in front of him. The clock read 11:00. _Is that really what I look like?_ He brought his palm up to his cheek, watching as Other Hajime did the same. _Another twin. I wonder if he feels forgotten too._ Other Hajime looked sad, tired, like he wanted to sleep but would feel poorly about himself if he did. Hajime wished he could console him, help him somehow, but Other Hajime just gave him a small smile and a shake of his head. Still. Still Hajime stood in front of that mirror. _He looks like he’s about to cry, why should I leave him like this?_ Hajime saw the moment Other Hajime let tears fall from his eyes, and was more surprised than he should’ve been to find those same tears streaming down his own cheeks. He quickly turned on the tap and splashed water on his face, hating how red he got and how selfish he felt when he cried. It was stupid and he wasn’t weak and _fuck, the water was on the hottest setting._

It was fine, though. Hajime would be okay.

Midnight and he was in bed, trying to read a book. His fingers felt numb. He turned the pages on instinct, occasionally not even aware that he was on the next page (as if someone else was turning it for him). He didn’t take any of the information in, just absentmindedly turning the pages like an animatronic in a soundstage in some large, forgotten production warehouse. His body ached to move, to sleep, to make the most of the night at least, but the pages kept turning and Hajime found himself in a trance.

One in the morning and Hajime wasn’t reading anymore. The book lay open but untouched on his comforter, sitting heavy on his stomach. His cheeks seemed to be wet and warm again, and his breath was coming out in an unstable rhythm. He stayed still, though, hoping to keep time from passing and to keep himself from acknowledging that, yes, he’s cried twice tonight. An audible whimper slipped past his lips, and his hand shot up to cover his mouth. _If Kazuichi hears me, I’ll never live it down._ Unfortunately, the sound of his own sobs seemed to force them out faster, louder, as if the denial was the only thing holding him back. He heard no movement coming from outside of his room, so he let himself have this one lonely moment in the pitch black, a frowning crescent in the sky his only company.  
   
Two in the morning and Hajime had worn himself to sleep. He would wake up to a streaked face and heavy bags the next morning, and be too tired to notice the fact that Kazuichi was much quieter than usual.  
   


* * *

   
**List of things I love about Fuyuhiko**  
   
·         calls you out when you’re being stupid  
·         protective of his friends  
·         super loyal to anyone he trusts  
·         really good at fashion n stuff  
·         has a really deep soul  
·         it’s really rewarding when he likes you  
   
“Y’know what I hate about you, Hajime?” Fuyuhiko said over the sound of mashing buttons and Smash Bros sound effects. Hajime was taken aback, forced off the edge of the stage in his sudden lack of focus.  
   
“Do we really have to do this right now?”  
   
“You’re really dense.” Fuyuhiko continued on without a care for whatever Hajime’s concerns were. _How can he focus so well while making fun of me? Where’s his karma? Why am I the one getting my ass kicked?_  
   
“I mean, we know I’m not the best at social stuff, but that’s not really my fault y’know?” Hajime would be lying if he said that jabs at his difficulty with social situations and ‘reading the air’ didn’t hurt him.  
   
“I’m not really talking about that- _shit, what’d you do that for_?” The match was over, Hajime having pulled through and forcing Fuyuhiko off the edge in one glorious last hurrah. He tossed the controller on the easy chair, thinking that he wasn’t going to let Fuyuhiko try to beat him by distracting him with insults again.  
   
“I’m talking about how you’re so down on yourself when everybody _loves_ you. How do you do that? Are you stupid or somethin’?” He said, his tone going from irritation to almost full-blown anger over the course of his words. Hajime was dumbfounded.  
   
“I’m not _down_ on myself-“  
   
“Gimme a break, you don’t have to say shit the way Nagito says it just to be down on yourself. You have no confidence and you think that you’re a talentless loser who isn’t even deserving of the same opportunities as other people. It’s kinda pathetic.” Fuyuhiko said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
   
“I wouldn’t put it that way. I don’t think you need to be really good at stuff to have opportunities, that would be unfair. You can only _get_ super good at stuff if you’re given the chance to.”  
   
“Yeah, okay, I didn’t mean that you think everyone who isn’t super amazing and renowned for their one special thing should be treated like garbage, I meant that you kinda gave up on treating yourself like you should be treated a long time ago. And it’s dumb. Look at me, no one really likes me but I’m still here, sitting next to you, _not_ hating myself, and I know that can’t be said for everyone on this couch.” He said, rolling his eyes until they landed back on Hajime, giving him a look that most would read as contempt if they didn’t know him.  
   
“I don’t hate myself, where’d you get that from? And a lot more people would like you if you weren’t such an asshole.” Hajime mumbled the last part, sinking into the couch and refusing to make eye contact with Fuyuhiko.  
   
“Uh, okay, maybe hate’s too strong of a word. You certainly don’t _like_ yourself.”  
   
“Does anybody like themselves?”  
   
“Exactly my point, dummy. I was raised an asshole, I was meant to be cold and brutal and unforgiving. But guess what? I didn’t like that, so I tried to lead a normal life. I’m trying my best to lose all these personality traits that have been beaten into me since childhood, but it’s hard. And yet, I still think I’m a pretty cool person. Here I am, alive, choosing the life I want to live over the one I should have. So what if people aren’t super fond of me when they first meet me? You, being my friend, are living proof that I’m not a terrible person. If I had no friends, then yeah, I’d probably hate myself too. If good people like you, then you can’t be all that bad.”  
   
Hajime knew that his feelings towards himself were mostly chemical, and he knew he couldn’t change just because a few words flipped a switch in his head, but that didn’t mean that hearing such an explanation (as harsh as Fuyuhiko may have made it sound) didn’t help.  
   
“I know you have like… deeper issues than that, that it’s more a brain problem than a social problem, but when your brain won’t tell you the truth, you gotta rely on other people more. You gotta ask people, ‘hey, my brain is telling me that I suck, is that true?’ and you gotta believe them. You do a damn good job of keeping your problems to yourself, but I’m well-versed in that area. The walls you put up? They’re transparent to me.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Okay, look. When you feel terrible, don’t be afraid to ask for help, okay? Living in a place where I wasn’t allowed to show weakness almost killed me, but I pulled my roots out of the ground, made off with them, and I _escaped_. When you finally realize that emotions aren’t weaknesses, and that hiding from them is, you start expressing yourself more and you start believing in yourself more and it finally feels like your spirit and your mind are on the same page.”  
   
Fuyuhiko didn’t look like he was about to cry, like he was overwhelmed by his words. No, he looked passionate and brave, his spirit glistening a golden shine through his eyes. He wasn’t just consoling Hajime, he was recounting a story, one that Hajime knew he wouldn’t be able to fully grasp until it actually _happened_ to him. The emotion Fuyuhiko’s words carried were probably the closest Hajime would get to understanding it before that time.  
   
“Sorry, I kinda rambled, didn’t I?” Fuyuhiko said at last. Hajime’s eyes were still glued on Fuyuhiko, committing every word he had just uttered to memory.  
   
“No, you… you have a real nice way with words, you know that?” Hajime said, straightening himself against the back of the couch. Fuyuhiko laughed before picking up his controller again, setting up another round.  
   
“I mean, I’m a bit of a hypocrite. I’m pretty good at opening up about personal things, but I still don’t think I’ll ever be able to be straightforward with Peko. Hell, I don’t even know if she _likes_ guys!”  
   
Hajime stood up to grab his controller from the other chair, before falling back down into the soft, thick fabric of the couch.  
   
“I thought you guys were basically already dating, to be honest.” Hajime said (selecting the pink and red Luigi as he spoke- the undefeated champion of being The Best Smash Bros Character).  
   
“Right? She actually had, like, a fun sexy fling with Sonia! I feel so left out!” Fuyuhiko said, his anger fueling his decision to pick Final Destination as their stage, to which Hajime groaned. _C’mon, I need a stage where pink Luigi can flourish!_  
   
“Seriously? I mean, good for them, but you gotta act fast or else you’ll lose her to all the very attractive girls here.” Hajime lost a life almost immediately, but he was too focused on the conversation at hand to care.  
   
“I know! But look at my competition! She’s too good for me, dude.” Fuyuhiko lamented.  
   
“Not to be rude, but I kinda agree with you. Peko’s a catch.”  
   
They talked and talked, and played Smash Bros until Kazuichi came back from his classes and decided to join in. Things got a whole lot more tense when they switched to Mario Kart, and eventually Hajime dropped out in favour of making dinner. He watched them both from the kitchen, elbowing each other and yelling whenever any obstacle appeared or whenever any character destroyed their crowning title with a single blue shell. It was probably even more entertaining for Hajime than it was for them, since he got front-row seats to the ‘Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko act completely insane on this Day’ show. Once dinner was ready (just some simple spaghetti), and both Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko were tired out, they invited Gundham over. He said he would come on one condition, that, _I kid you not_ , Hajime made ‘that valorous sauce that I enjoyeth’. He said _enjoyeth._  
   
The four of them spent the evening eating and talking and playing more games (Gundham insisted they play a board game, Settlers of Catan). It was fun and Hajime didn’t even feel like it was a distraction from his problems- they just felt so stupid and unimportant when he was surrounded by people he loves. Night came, and Fuyuhiko and Gundham got up to leave, Hajime following after them.  
   
“Hey, uh… thanks, you guys, for being my friends.” Hajime said, right as they stepped out of the room, both turned to face him, with looks of endearment.  
   
“Even for such a dark creature as myself, I find your friendship invaluable and a complete delight in my life!”  
   
“Yeah, dude, you’re an absolute fuckin’ delight. Well put, Gundham.”  
   
Gundham guffawed as they walked away, and even when they were far down the hall, it carried all the way back to Hajime’s dorm. Gundham’s projection was just a part of what made him such a textbook theatre kid.  
   
Kazuichi was already cleaning the dishes when he came back in.  
   
“You too, Kazuichi.”  
   
“Huh?” Kazuichi said, looking up from the dishes to give Hajime a perplexed look.  
   
“Thanks for being my friend.” Hajime flashed Kazuichi a small smile, before picking up a dishtowel and using it to dry all of the plates and pieces of cutlery that had already been washed.  
   
“Like I said, no problem. I’m just glad that we _are_ friends.”  
   
They continued on in a comfortable silence, Kazuichi humming to himself and Hajime not bothering to tell him to knock it off.  
   


* * *

   
The next day, Hajime thanked Chiaki and Nagito for their friendship. Chiaki just asked why he would thank her for something she chose to do, and Nagito turned it on its head and began putting himself down again. Hajime was too tired to say anything to stop him, so he just grabbed his hand again and rested his forehead on his shoulder (cold somehow, even through the fabric of his shirt). Nagito choked at the affection, squeezing his hand and wrapping his one free arm around Hajime.  
   
It felt new and nice.  
   


* * *

   
Hajime was up by four in the morning. His first thought was to try to sleep again, that his insomnia was acting up at the worst possible time, but then the faint reds and oranges and purples of the morning sun began to spill over the horizon. Hajime peered out the window, so used to the cold of the night that this newfound warmth consumed him, his heart bubbling with adventure. It felt happy.  
   
Maybe it was the promise of a new beginning that had him feeling this way. Maybe it was the overwhelming love for all the people in his life that was filling his mind and his spirit and growing to the point of bursting. Maybe he just had spent so long staring at sunsets that he forgot the sun always rises.  
   
Hajime had spent so much of his life wishing to be better, wishing to have talent, that he forgot that he had friends. He had friends to lean on, he had friends to rely on, he had friends who loved him without any other reason besides the fact that they enjoyed being around him. He forgot just how important they were, and part of him felt bad that he had spent so long praying for more when he had it all, right there. For some people, other stuff was what they relied on. Some people dedicated themselves to their work, used it as an outlet for their intellect. Some people made art, used it as an outlet for their emotions.  
   
And some people made friends, and built their lives on others. And that was okay too.  
   
Hajime opened the window, the cold morning air flooding into his room like a ghost of the night, just a faint memory to the sun. He still wasn’t close enough, his room was far too dark. Happy and impulsive, he pulled on a coat and left his dorm room, heading straight down the stairs and out into the frigid air. His checkered pyjama pants did nothing against the cold, but at least he had a jacket and slippers on. His breath was icy in the air as he walked up the hill near the campus dorms. There were benches up there, and it was high up enough to have an unobstructed view of the whole sky. He sat down, the bench cold on his thighs through the flimsy fabric, but it didn’t matter. The spill of colours ran through the whole sky now, expanding by the second.  
   
“Hajime, what are you doing out here?”  
   
Nagito was stood by the bench, completely underdressed and shivering.  
   
“Nagito, what’s wrong with you? You’re gonna get frostbite!” Hajime said, pulling his arm out of one of the sleeves of his jacket and holding the open side up to Nagito.  
   
“Ah, no need to worry about me, Hajime! I’m fine.”  
   
“I’m gonna have to insist that you sit here and share my jacket, sorry.” Hajime said, scooting over to make more room. Nagito sat down, their legs touching from hip to knee, and pulled the jacket over his shoulder. The jacket wasn't big enough to allow for much fabric to cover Nagito, so Hajime pulled his other arm out so that they could share the burden of insufficient amount of cover.  
   
“You didn’t answer my question, Hajime.” Nagito said, his voice small and soft.  
   
“I just wanted to watch the sunrise, that’s all.”  
   
Hajime looked over at Nagito, and was immediately brought back to that sunlit room. Nagito’s face was illuminated with warm colours, and that water colour glow still surrounded him. The painted sky behind him seemed to frame him, every second of his movement an equally gorgeous and equally unique piece of art.  
   
Hajime was tongue-tied, so he decided to not say anything at all.  
   
Eventually, they had to go back.  
   


* * *

   
Kazuichi was relieved to see Hajime.  
   
“Kazuichi, why are you up?” Hajime asked, since Kazuichi wasn’t the type to really wake up early. He had a very normal sleep schedule of nine hours every night, from eleven to eight (which meant that he woke up earlier than Hajime on most days, but stayed up far less late).  
   
“I was worried when I heard sounds and then got up to find you weren’t in your bed. I knew it was probably nothing, but y’know. Sometimes you’re a bit worrying.” Kazuichi said, getting up from the couch.  
   
“I was just watching the sunrise.”  
   
“With Nagito, right? I thought I saw you two out the window.” Kazuichi said, chuckling. Hajime got pink in the face, taking off his jacket and sliding off his slippers.  
   
“Why didn’t you invite me to go watch the sunrise with you? Or Fuyuhiko? Gundham? Chiaki? Or was this some sort of romantic escapade?” Kazuichi stuck out his tongue and wiggled his eyebrows. Hajime went from pink to red, quickly walking past Kazuichi to his room.  
   
“I kid, I kid, don’t run off! He’s… well…” Kazuichi began, “he does seem like your type.”  
   
“He just went out there on his own, there was no sunrise-watching invitation.” Hajime said, changing the topic a bit.  
   
“Well, invite all of us sometime, okay? Even if it’s at four in the morning, I’d still wake up to hang with you, and I’m sure Fuyuhiko would as well. Not so sure about Gundham and Chiaki, though.” Kazuichi said, laughing again.  
   
“Okay, yeah, _sure_.” Hajime said, Kazuichi’s laughter becoming infectious as he found himself chuckling as well.  
   


* * *

   
Sometimes Hajime was too tired to wake up to see the sunrise, especially as Spring started to bloom and Summer got ever closer, but that was okay.  
   
The sun always rises.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this fic!! it has lots of my headcanons in it so sorry if it seems ooc or anything!!


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